Mission: Saving Santa!
by Jime-chan
Summary: When Arthur Kirkland decided to bake some Christmas cookies, Alfred knew that it was up to him to save Santa from a certain death.


This is for the Secret Santa happening over at Livejournal. And for those wandering what happened with Hybrids, I have not given up. It's just that the battery on the other computer went all wonky and now I have to either find a way to get all my files back, or have to start all over again. So yeah, sorry. In any case, this is a gift for fmavatar over at Livejournal. Hope you like it!

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><p><strong>Mission: Saving Santa<strong>

When Alfred said he would come over for Christmas, he wasn't expecting that he would have to save the world from Arthur's cooking. I mean, nobody could beat the country in a sewing match, or a sword fight or even in a boat, but he wondered the reason behind Arthur's stubbornness. You could only go so far believing your food was edible.

At first the preparations had been perfect. He had helped the smaller country hang up some decorations high up in the ceiling (like the mistletoe and man had he taken advantage of that...) while the green eyed man worked on the tree. They had had so much fun, with only one or two mishaps (seriously how was he supposed to know he had to be careful with the ladder? Nobody told him that) but then had come the cooking.

Thank god they were going over to Finland's place to celebrate Christmas, because he had no idea if he could survive the whole night with England's cooking. Especially since he insisted on doing just that. He had thought he had escaped a certain death and was just thanking God and whatever deity was out there (although it would be nice if they listened to his prayers and got him those awesome games Japan had showed him last time) when Arthur said it.

"_I think I'm going to bake some Christmas biscuits."_

And you know what Christmas _cookies _mean? Santa. And you know what Arthur's Christmas cookies mean? A dead Santa.

It was at that moment he realized this small vacation with his boyfriend was no more than a mission to save humanity and the best holiday ever (Halloween was cool and all, but you didn't get presents simply because it's the day some dude was born a thousand years ago). As a hero, he couldn't ignore the world's plead to save it.

And maybe Santa will bring him an extra gift or two as thanks?

The only problem was Arthur. When the country had something in mind he was quite stubborn, especially when it came to his cooking. This meant that the mission had to be done discreetly, without letting England know. If he ever discovered the truth Alfred was sure he would never forgive him. And _that_ meant no cuddling, kissing or hot time with his own personal Christmas elf (yeah, his wonderful boyfriend had promised him that).

So when the day came to bake those cookies (England sure had some weird words in his language), Alfred was ready.

More or less.

He had pleaded England to let him help (which had been no easy matter, the smaller country sure was stingy about his food) until the other blond had caved. After that he had quickly looked over for the recipe, sure about his own culinary talents to be able ace the batch of cookies. Behind the green-eyed country's back he had bought the ingredients, making sure to hid them when he returned home.

When it was time Alfred brought out the ingredients (double of everything, just in case something went wrong- he _was_ able to think ahead!) all while begging England to make him some of those. At first the isle hesitated, having wanting to try out one of his own ideas, before he had relented in front of the full force of the blue-eyed puppy face. If nothing else worked (from sweet-talking to death threats) America knew that face would never fail him. It was like his secret weapon.

Arthur had decided to go full out on the Christmas spirit and for that reason he had chosen to make some gingerbread men, and while he couldn't do his own version of the biscuits, he was happy to bake something for Alfred. Gingerbread men were easy to make and the island was sure that nothing could go wrong. Not even with Alfred's abysmal, dreadful cooking skills.

Doesn't this make you wander how exactly this relationship works? But I digress.

Arthur tied his apron around his waist, looking over at America as he did the same. The younger man was looking over at the ingredients, making sure that they had everything at hand. He acted like he was a soldier about to go to war or some dangerous, potentially fatal mission. It made him look quite cute.

Especially with his apron and he had even tied a light blue scarf on his head to keep his hair off! Arthur had gone for the same idea, only he had replaced the blue scarf by a dark green one. The fairies had insisted that they made the colour of his eyes stand out more.

Alfred had taken the butter out some time ago, so that they could easily mix up the batter. In fact, he had even prepared the ingredients beforehand, saying something about wanting to help out as much as possible. Without even noticing Arthur's hand inched towards the powdered curry that India had brought over not so long ago, when she had dropped by unannounced. America noticed his hand's movements and quick as lighting he moved forwards, catching the older country's pale hand on his own darker one. This brought England out of his musings and with curiosity he turned his questioning eyes to his former charge.

With a slightly nervous smile Alfred brought the hand to his lips, kissing it lightly like he had seen those men do in the old movies Arthur secretly loved watching. A rosy pink blush appeared on the shorter man's cheeks and the bridge of his nose. The curiosity in those eyes had dimmed, slowly but surely being replaced by shyness and delicate pleasure. Maybe this mission did have its perks! "Here, allow me," he said lowly, placing his mouth against his boyfriend's ear. Arthur shivered in delight not even noticing Alfred handing over the bowl with the ingredients.

With a devilish smirk (he was staring to really like this whole saving Santa situation), America grabbed both of England's hands, and together they mixed the ingredients with their hands. The smaller country didn't do anything to stop him, having been reduced to putty by Alfred's low voice in his ear and his firm body pressed against his backside. Alfred discreetly added the sugar, egg and the syrup, handing over the whisker to a dazed English gentleman. After this whole thing was over he was going to try out this new tricks, just to see where they led him.

He pre-heated the oven, just like the recipe told him to do, before hurrying over to his beloved tsundere. Said tsundere was mechanically working on mixing the batter, not even noticing that the pastry mix was already firm. Quickly Alfred took the bowl from his hands, startling the poor country out of his daydreaming. Before he could react however, the taller country leaned forwards, kissing his boyfriend softly and slowly, just like Arthur liked it. He was quite tempted to continue walking down this very interesting development, but he had a mission at hand.

"Can I please please use the rolling pin and make the gingerbread men?" Alfred begged the other, hoping that England wouldn't suspect anything was amiss. The other country didn't have the heart to tell him no.

"Here let me help then," taking the rolling pin from Alfred's hands, he set up to make the gingerbread men. With a small smirk his boyfriend followed him, a plan already forming in his head.

This whole Saving Santa business? Best thing ever!

Like they had done before with the pastry mix, Alfred wrapped his hands around Arthur's, helping him with the rolling pin and later on with the pastry cutter. To keep the island distracted (seriously, he was doing this for the good of the world. And if the world wanted him to spend some quality time with his adorable boyfriend while saving it, who was he to tell it no?) Alfred murmured sweet things against his ear, pressing his body against Arthur's and maybe stealing a kiss or two. But hey, all fair in love and Christmas right? Right.

Placing the cookies on the baking trays, after Alfred had made sure that they were greased beforehand, they placed them in the oven for fifteen minutes, Alfred having to resist on jumping his cute and adorable boyfriend. He knew that if they ever started something they wouldn't notice the kitchen burning and Arthur would have to find a new kitchen for the third time this month.

And they would have to go through the whole operation once again.

With a self-control America (and pretty much the rest of the world) didn't know existed within him, Alfred teased his boyfriend, trying very hard to keep his hands on safe areas. There were a few times when he almost gave in, but the memory of a dead Santa and an empty Christmas tree were enough for him to resist. For now.

When the cookies were (finally!) ready, England brought out the icing, chocolate chips, and other decorations for the gingerbread men. With the precision of a soldier on his last mission they set out, America keeping a close eye on his partner the whole time. It wouldn't be wise if they had to go through the whole operation once again.

When the last gingerbread man had been decorated, Alfred couldn't keep his naughty smirk off his lips. Arthur was putting away the last of the ingredients, still wearing that cute apron and scarf. And there was some icing near his lips that was just begging to be licked away.

"Arthur..." the taller country leaned forwards, licking the icing at the same time. "Since I was such a good boy, can I get a present?" He practically purred against his ear, loving the shiver that went up and down the isle's back.

"W-well, you didn't bother me during the whole process and you _actually helped me out _so... I suppose a small present won't hurt. But just a small one, we don't want to be late to Finland's party."

Talking about Finland's party...

Neither bothered answer the phone when it rang, Arthur a little occupied on gifting his precious boyfriend to bother getting up, but that didn't stop him from hearing the message left behind.

"Hey Alfred!" Prussia's annoying voice echoed through the room, not tuned out by their activities. "Did you manage to stop England from killing Santa? Because we are quite worried over here that the old man won't be able to give out the presents after some of England's cooking. Of course the amazing me can always replace him, but Feli would be so disappointed... Well call me and give all the juicy details okay? Don't leave the awesome me waiting!"

Gulping, Alfred wandered if he had enough time to call for a SWAT team to pick him up. And maybe the CIA, just in case.

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><p>I found the recipe somewhere and since it seemed like the only thing Alfred could possibly make without it ending in disaster... I hope fmavatar like their gift and it would be great if you could leave a small comment please? *brings out Alfred and his puppy face* Please?<p> 


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